242. The Coble O Cargin
242a: The Coble O Cargin
242a.1 David DRUMMONDRRrrS destinie,
Gude man o appearance o Cargill;
I wat his blude rins in the flude,
Sae sair against his parents will.
242A.2 She was the lass o Balathy toun,
And he the butler o Stobhall,
And mony a time she wauked late
To bore the coble o Cargill.
242A.3 His bed was made in Kercock ha,
Of gude clean sheets and of [the] hay;
He wudna rest ae nicht therein,
But on the prude waters he wud gae.
242A.4 His bed was made in Balathy toun,
Of the clean sheets and of the strae;
But I wat it was far better made
Into the bottom o bonnie Tay.
242A.5 She bored the coble in seven pairts,
I wat her heart might hae been fu sair;
For there she got the bonnie lad lost
Wi the curly locks and the yellow hair.
242A.6 He put his foot into the boat,
He little thocht o ony ill;
But before that he was mid-waters,
The weary coble began to fill.
242A.7 Woe be to the lass o Balathy toun,
I wat an ill death may she die!
For she bored the coble in seven pairts,
And let the waters perish me.
242A.8 Oh, help, oh help, I can get nane,
Nae help o man can to me come!
This was about his dying words,
When he was choaked up to the chin.
242A.9 Gae tell my father and my mother
It was naebody did me this ill;
I was a-going my ain errands,
Lost at the coble o bonnie Cargill.
242a.10 She bored the boat in seven pairts,
I wat she bored it wi gude will;
And there they got the bonnie lads corpse,
In the kirk-shot o bonnie Cargill.
242a.11 Oh a the keys o bonnie Stobha
I wat they at his belt did hing;
But a the keys of bonnie Stobha
They now ly low into the stream.
242a.12 A braver page into his age
Neer set a foot upon the plain;
His father to his mother said,
Oh, sae soon as weve wanted him!
242a.13 I wat they had mair luve than this
When they were young and at the scule;
But for his sake she wauked late,
And bored the coble o bonnie Cargill.
242a.14 Theres neer a clean sark gae on my back,
Nor yet a kame gae in my hair;
Theres neither coal nor candle-licht
Shall shine in my bouir foe evir mair.
242a.15 At kirk nor market Ise neer be at,
Nor yet a blythe blink in my ee;
Theres neer a ane shall say to anither,
Thats the lassie gard the young man die.
242a.16 Between the yates o bonnie Stobha
And the kirk-style o bonnie Cargill,
There is mony a man and mothers son
That was at my loves burial.
242a.1 David DRUMMONDRRrrS destinie,
Gude man o appearance o Cargill;
I wat his blude rins in the flude,
Sae sair against his parents will.
242A.2 She was the lass o Balathy toun,
And he the butler o Stobhall,
And mony a time she wauked late
To bore the coble o Cargill.
242A.3 His bed was made in Kercock ha,
Of gude clean sheets and of [the] hay;
He wudna rest ae nicht therein,
But on the prude waters he wud gae.
242A.4 His bed was made in Balathy toun,
Of the clean sheets and of the strae;
But I wat it was far better made
Into the bottom o bonnie Tay.
242A.5 She bored the coble in seven pairts,
I wat her heart might hae been fu sair;
For there she got the bonnie lad lost
Wi the curly locks and the yellow hair.
242A.6 He put his foot into the boat,
He little thocht o ony ill;
But before that he was mid-waters,
The weary coble began to fill.
242A.7 Woe be to the lass o Balathy toun,
I wat an ill death may she die!
For she bored the coble in seven pairts,
And let the waters perish me.
242A.8 Oh, help, oh help, I can get nane,
Nae help o man can to me come!
This was about his dying words,
When he was choaked up to the chin.
242A.9 Gae tell my father and my mother
It was naebody did me this ill;
I was a-going my ain errands,
Lost at the coble o bonnie Cargill.
242a.10 She bored the boat in seven pairts,
I wat she bored it wi gude will;
And there they got the bonnie lads corpse,
In the kirk-shot o bonnie Cargill.
242a.11 Oh a the keys o bonnie Stobha
I wat they at his belt did hing;
But a the keys of bonnie Stobha
They now ly low into the stream.
242a.12 A braver page into his age
Neer set a foot upon the plain;
His father to his mother said,
Oh, sae soon as weve wanted him!
242a.13 I wat they had mair luve than this
When they were young and at the scule;
But for his sake she wauked late,
And bored the coble o bonnie Cargill.
242a.14 Theres neer a clean sark gae on my back,
Nor yet a kame gae in my hair;
Theres neither coal nor candle-licht
Shall shine in my bouir foe evir mair.
242a.15 At kirk nor market Ise neer be at,
Nor yet a blythe blink in my ee;
Theres neer a ane shall say to anither,
Thats the lassie gard the young man die.
242a.16 Between the yates o bonnie Stobha
And the kirk-style o bonnie Cargill,
There is mony a man and mothers son
That was at my loves burial.
